A Bandit's Tale
by nibby9
Summary: A captured warlock, an impostor named Emrys and a plot to kill the King, all told from the unexpected viewpoint of Lorcan the bandit. Reveal fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: **So I decided to try something different thistime... Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I wish...

**Chapter 1**

I suppose I had better start at the beginning.

The name's Lorcan and it all began, I guess, when I finally packed up and decided to join my brother Draynor. There wasn't much left for me in my village after the eldest of my two siblings, Calen, was killed fighting two Mercian knights a few months back. After that, Draynor had fallen into the wrong crowd – making a living thieving in the forest of Ascetir. A couple of months of loneliness and lack of work was all it took for me to leave my old life and join him.

And so I became a bandit.

It's highly frowned upon in all kingdoms but when you're desperate and have no other way of getting your daily bread; a man's got to do what a man's got to do. It was just my luck that the first time I ever tried to help in an attack; things just had to go wrong.

The plan was to just steal what you could from whoever next went by, so long as it wasn't a patrol or people who were armed. We were fewer in numbers than we should have apparently been, Rockwood – our leader, told me. They'd split up from the usual number of around 20 to only 12 while we made camp near a village so the rest could get supplies.

I'd always been pretty nifty with a sword but I was still worried about how things could go wrong. No one cares about bandits. Sure, we were feared, but you get slaughtered if you accidently pick on somebody you underestimated. A simple slash of the sword here and – BAM. Bye, bye life. No one even takes a second glance.

As I said, this was my first time ever actually doing anything so of course I was nervous. Terrified you could say. Being an outlaw was never my ideal career choice, if anything I would have maybe liked to become a physician so I never thought that I would ever take anybody's life before and I was determined to remain not a murderer despite my current occupation. But it's a cut throat world out there.

So the plan was just to steal. It was all worked out – me and a few of the others would attack the left side and Rockwood would lead the main attacking force on the right along with Draynor. We'd grab as much as we could and scarper.

He looked harmless enough at first. A lookout had spotted him – just a lone rider without a crest heading right through our territory. I clutched my sword ever closer to my body, breathing shallow and quick. I could feel my heart pumping far too fast in my chest as I desperately but futilely tried to calm myself down. As I looked around, the hardened mercenaries of whom I was surrounded by barely batted an eyelid. Suddenly I felt rather inexperienced.

Soon enough, the faint patter of hooves on fallen leaves could be heard nearby, coming ever closer each second. Not long after, I could see our chosen victim – he was tall and lanky with messy black hair and protruding cheekbones and sported a rather tatty red neck scarf. He was merrily trotting by, humming quietly to himself, unaware of our presence until it would be too late. I spied his main bag on the side of his dark brown mare – it was small and would be easy enough to just grab without much hassle. There wouldn't be much we could get off him as he definitely was no noble but if he could afford a horse, the chances are there'd be something.

We waited patiently for the signal from Rockwood as the oblivious male gradually drew closer. A shout of "Aaaahh!" and the charging forward of the rest of the group was enough of a signal for us and we began our attack.

Boy, were we surprised - I mean, how were we meant to know that he was a sorcerer?

**A/n**: What did you think? Next chapter up soon where the plot will hopefully become interesting

Please review - concrit always welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

**A Bandit's Tale – Chapter 2**

Within seconds of the attack, the majority of the group were lying unconscious, scattered around the forest floor. I couldn't help but remain still and watch in either awe or fear; I wasn't sure which.

Few had actually managed to get closer than a few feet of the sorcerer but in the time it took me to stop staring like an idiot, the horse was rearing without a rider. Confused, I tried to look past the frightened mare, holding my sword tight in my hands ready to attack. I could hear shouts and a scuffle and every few seconds you'd hear the sickening thwack as yet another person was flung 10 feet in the air and into a tree.

Finally the horse stopped bucking and ran away from the fight – very nearly trampling me in the process I might add, oh how I hated horses – leaving me with a clear view of the action. Cowardly as I was, I had still to join my new comrades and remained passively watching from further back.

The man was backing away on the dirt floor from two of the largest bandits of us all as the rest began stirring all around. I watched in horror as I saw his bloodied hand gripping a rather vicious looking wound on his arm, explaining why he hadn't just 'magicked' them back like the others. If anything, he looked fit to faint any moment.

"Well, well, well. If we haven't caught ourselves a sorcerer." One said in a gruff, low voice. A grin slowly forming on his scarred face.

"An' a powerful one at that." Added the other – I was yet to learn all their names.

The man on the floor shifted position to pull himself onto his feet. "Get back." He warned.

Although the others laughed at the unsteady man's words, I couldn't help but feel at least a bit uneasy. He was scrawny and no way near as good a fighter as them but despite his obvious injuries, there was a sense of power and authority in his voice. You wouldn't have guessed.

"Wot you gonna do? Eh? Y'can barely stand as it is!" The taller one (Blake - was it?) jested, jabbing his sword at the man in an attempt to knock him back down. Surprisingly, he held his ground.

"I could do more than you could ever imagine." He replied coldly. No fear or maliciousness in his voice, like he was not boasting, but stating.

"Not if yer dead, y'can't!"

Blake raised his sword to strike the death blow. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and forced myself to look away, my face contorted in a grimace. But the sound of a man dying was not what I heard. Instead, the new familiar sound of men being thrown back was what I was greeted with. I snapped open my eyes to find I was the last man standing – well, apart from the sorcerer of course.

I don't think he saw me because I was still further back than the others. He must have been really powerful because from the look of him, he did not look good at all. I was surprised he had the strength to remain standing let alone enough to blast two fully grown men back 20 feet.

I could see him looking round in relief, his expression turning from powerful sorcerer not to be messed with to a relieved but seriously wounded man. However, his victory was short lived when he suddenly collapsed onto the floor.

I found I was no longer stood paralysed, watching in terror as instincts took over. I discarded my sword to one side and I rushed over to kneel by the young man. He had a very deep and serious shoulder wound and had lost a lot of blood from the looks of it. But even though I'd have liked to have been, I was not a physician and didn't have a clue what to do. When you're from a village in the middle of nowhere, you don't usually deal with battle wounds.

Realising I wasn't going to be much help, I looked around for someone who might be of use, idiotically completely forgetting about everyone else. I rushed to my older brother's side, expecting him and everyone else to be dead, but found only a minor head wound. The sorcerer had just knocked everyone out. I was confused – I thought sorcerers were evil? Why did he not kill the people who just tried to kill him? I was so thoroughly dumfounded by the man's compassion at sparing our lives that I didn't actually hear Rockwood stir behind me until he spoke.

"Well Lorcan! I didn't think you had it in you!" He said, patting me rather forcefully on my back and scaring the life out of me.

I jumped up in shock but Rockwood wasn't paying attention to me, but to the unconscious sorcerer.

"Powerful ones like 'im always get a good price. Well done not killing 'im."

I furrowed my brow in confusion. Did he think I knocked out the sorcerer? I opened my mouth to protest but found that Rockwood had already left my side.

The 6 foot something mercenary crouched by the injured man's side and pushed him forcefully to check he was unconscious. Pleased with the reaction, or lack thereof, he uttered two words.

"Bind 'im."

~_Merlin~_

After a few hours near everyone had made a full recovery. Rockwood had me deemed as some kind of hero amongst the lads for taking down the sorcerer. Around the fire of the evening, the men were talking and drinking and laughing but one person wasn't joining in.

Draynor had been watching me sceptically all evening with narrowed eyes until finally he'd come over to have a word.

"What really happened Lorcan?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, staring into my long-empty tankard.

"You know full well what I mean." He snarled, jerking his head in the direction of the prisoner.

Me and Draynor never really got on. Calen was the one who stepped in to stop our petty rows and arguments that consumed the majority of our conversations. He was the peace keeper but he wasn't here anymore.

As I already said, Draynor had gone off the rails and fallen into the wrong crowd which is the reason why we were both sitting there now. What really happened was after Calen's death he was determined to undermine me in any way possible. It was sibling rivalry at its worst. Calen was the nearest thing we got to a guardian when our parents died young so with him gone, there was nobody to keep Draynor in check. He never liked me. Partially out of jealousy, partially out of blame but I'll come back to that later.

So anyway, back on topic.

I stared at him before I looked back at my non-existent drink, refusing to give in to his childish behaviour.

"Don't know what you mean." I mumbled in reply.

He laughed harshly and coldly. "Don't give me that Lorcan. I know full well you don't have it in you to attack a sorcerer. You lied to all of them that you did just so that you could feel like one of us. The hero. Well, whatever happened brother, I can promise you that another fluke won't happen again. Enjoy it while it lasts."

And with that he left me again. My cheeks were tinted with pink from the confrontation but I was determined to not let it get to me. Absentmindedly, I looked around the camp only to notice the captive was awake. At first I was going to tell the others but soon I realised that he looked rather panicked and scared. He was staring at the shackles on his hands and was trying to say something, getting more and more frantic each time he said it. It hit me that he must've been trying to do magic.

It was difficult for me to watch. Soon after, he slumped back in defeat and exhaustion.

Instantly feeling terrible, I grabbed nearby a bread roll and water skin and made my way over.

He was aware of my presence immediately and frantically shuffled back away. I felt a pang of guilt as I watched him look at me in fear, anger and disgust.

"I thought you might be hungry." I said, offering him the bread and water. He continued just to stare at me. I sighed and placed them down on the nearby grass.

"I'll just leave them here then."

Nothing.

"I'm Lorcan by the way. And you are?"

Still nothing.

At this point I was getting rather frustrated now at the lack of response. "How's your shoulder?"I tried. Maybe that would get a response.

I reached over to check on the wound only for him to snatch his arm away and hiss in pain at the sudden action.

"Look, I'm trying to help you." I told him, sympathetically as he cradled his wound. How was I meant to get him to understand that I was just trying to help him?

"I'm not like the others. I really do just want to help you."

"How do I know that?" He asked icily.

Finally – a response!

"I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't even want to be here."

He eyed me suspiciously with narrow eyes but I tried to show him the truth – that I meant no harm.

"What have you done to me?" He asked hoarsely.

"What do you mean?" I asked for the second time that night.

"My magic..." He choked out, a sense of despair and loss in his eyes.

I sighed as I truly did not know the answer.

"I don't know. I think Rockwood mentioned something about the shackles."

"Not getting too friendly with our prisoner, are we Lorcan?" The familiar voice rang across the camp.

Speak of the Devil.

I froze where I crouched and spun round to face him, putting on as fake a friendly face I could manage.

"Not at all Rockwood."

"Good." He replied gruffly with a smile, showing his disgusting rotten teeth. "Deserves every bit wot's coming to him that one does. Besides, now we have guests to entertain."

A man in a cloak appeared by his side.

"Fellow crooks, bandits, outlaws and thieves, meet an old friend of mine - Emrys."


End file.
